Published: Friday, January 25, 2013 at 3:15 a.m.

Last Modified: Wednesday, January 23, 2013 at 8:39 p.m.

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Zacchaeus, 9, effortlessly moved his fingers across a keyboard. Trey, 11, hit the drums and crashed the cymbals. Vincent, his wife, Natasha, and his two other children T'nija, 6, and Tia, 12, held microphones and lifted harmonious melodies that bounced off the walls and drifted through the halls of their Pauline home.

With hips swaying side to side, Vincent Downing smiled at the music his children and wife were making. He's always loved music, and that part of him has clearly passed on to other members of his family.

But he couldn't see them; he's never seen his family. Downing lost sight in his right eye at the age of 7. He lost sight in his left eye shortly after, due to a “weak retina.” He's undergone several surgeries in an attempt to fix his vision, but nothing has worked.

“It was lights out,” he said.

He clapped his hands and danced to the music on a recent Thursday. He occasionally positioned himself in front of the keyboard, an instrument he taught himself to play when he was 15. He didn't need to see the keys — like his son, who also has weak vision and wears glasses, he knew all the right notes to play.

“Being blind doesn't slow me down,” he said. In fact, he believes God made him blind for a reason.

“I walk by faith, not by sight,” he said. “You can have use of your eyes and still not be able to see.”

A new vision

Downing started a church with his family in July. This same motto appears each Sunday atop the bulletin:

“Walk by faith, not sight.”

He calls the nondenominational church, which currently gathers inside the Bethlehem Center in Spartanburg, The Empowerment Center.

Downing calls it “The TEC (pronounced ‘tech')” for short. “Come learn about God at the TEC,” he tells people.

Downing has moved from behind the keyboard — where he has served many churches as music minister and worship leader over the years — to behind the pulpit, where he preaches sermons that “empower others to come together and stay focused on God, no matter what obstacles we face,” he said.

His musical family forms the praise band, and they had the small congregation moving to the beat on a recent Sunday.

Choosing to become a pastor took a lot of deliberation, Downing said.

“I wasn't scared,” he said. “But I knew it was a lot of work.”

He says he started the church with $25 and a lot of prayer. The congregation originally gathered in a hotel conference room before moving to the Bethlehem Center, in the Highlands area of Spartanburg.

“I always say I can,” he said. “I've never said I can't do something.”

And he carries this mentality with him everywhere he goes. Inside his home, he constructed a sound booth adjacent to the bedroom where he and his family have “jam sessions.” Downing says he lived by himself for years before he married Natasha, whom he met as a teenager when he was leading worship at a church.

Downing's only wish is that he could drive a car, he joked on a recent Sunday.

But instead, he walks. For outreach, he walks the streets of neighborhoods in the Highlands area, knocking on doors of residents and inviting them to church.

Many are surprised to open up and see a blind man standing there, Downing said.

He will say: “Hey, I'm pastor Vincent Downing and we are here serving the community, and we are trying to get people to our church.”

Some close the door in his face after stating their disinterest. But some listen and engage in conversation; some show up at the next service, which generally includes about 30 people each Sunday morning.

“We give people a chance to ask questions really throughout the service,” he said. “We want people to understand. We don't want to be looked at as a regular church.”

Several congregants who attend are also blind, or have other physical disabilities.

Downing wants his message to get across to everyone: “Can't never could do anything,” he said.

<p>The Downing family gathered in a small bedroom and began to make music.</p><p>Zacchaeus, 9, effortlessly moved his fingers across a keyboard. Trey, 11, hit the drums and crashed the cymbals. Vincent, his wife, Natasha, and his two other children T'nija, 6, and Tia, 12, held microphones and lifted harmonious melodies that bounced off the walls and drifted through the halls of their Pauline home.</p><p>With hips swaying side to side, Vincent Downing smiled at the music his children and wife were making. He's always loved music, and that part of him has clearly passed on to other members of his family.</p><p>But he couldn't see them; he's never seen his family. Downing lost sight in his right eye at the age of 7. He lost sight in his left eye shortly after, due to a “weak retina.” He's undergone several surgeries in an attempt to fix his vision, but nothing has worked.</p><p>“It was lights out,” he said.</p><p>He clapped his hands and danced to the music on a recent Thursday. He occasionally positioned himself in front of the keyboard, an instrument he taught himself to play when he was 15. He didn't need to see the keys — like his son, who also has weak vision and wears glasses, he knew all the right notes to play.</p><p>“Being blind doesn't slow me down,” he said. In fact, he believes God made him blind for a reason.</p><p>“I walk by faith, not by sight,” he said. “You can have use of your eyes and still not be able to see.”</p><h3>A new vision</h3>
<p>Downing started a church with his family in July. This same motto appears each Sunday atop the bulletin:</p><p>“Walk by faith, not sight.”</p><p>He calls the nondenominational church, which currently gathers inside the Bethlehem Center in Spartanburg, The Empowerment Center.</p><p>Downing calls it “The TEC (pronounced 'tech')” for short. “Come learn about God at the TEC,” he tells people.</p><p>Downing has moved from behind the keyboard — where he has served many churches as music minister and worship leader over the years — to behind the pulpit, where he preaches sermons that “empower others to come together and stay focused on God, no matter what obstacles we face,” he said.</p><p>His musical family forms the praise band, and they had the small congregation moving to the beat on a recent Sunday.</p><p>Choosing to become a pastor took a lot of deliberation, Downing said.</p><p>“I wasn't scared,” he said. “But I knew it was a lot of work.”</p><p>He says he started the church with $25 and a lot of prayer. The congregation originally gathered in a hotel conference room before moving to the Bethlehem Center, in the Highlands area of Spartanburg.</p><p>“I always say I can,” he said. “I've never said I can't do something.”</p><p>And he carries this mentality with him everywhere he goes. Inside his home, he constructed a sound booth adjacent to the bedroom where he and his family have “jam sessions.” Downing says he lived by himself for years before he married Natasha, whom he met as a teenager when he was leading worship at a church.</p><p>Downing's only wish is that he could drive a car, he joked on a recent Sunday.</p><p>But instead, he walks. For outreach, he walks the streets of neighborhoods in the Highlands area, knocking on doors of residents and inviting them to church.</p><p>Many are surprised to open up and see a blind man standing there, Downing said.</p><p>He will say: “Hey, I'm pastor Vincent Downing and we are here serving the community, and we are trying to get people to our church.”</p><p>Some close the door in his face after stating their disinterest. But some listen and engage in conversation; some show up at the next service, which generally includes about 30 people each Sunday morning.</p><p>“We give people a chance to ask questions really throughout the service,” he said. “We want people to understand. We don't want to be looked at as a regular church.”</p><p>Several congregants who attend are also blind, or have other physical disabilities.</p><p>Downing wants his message to get across to everyone: “Can't never could do anything,” he said.</p>